It's not that we try to forget
by Verve
Summary: ...leaving my foot prints in a land once toiled over by simple farmers; now tilled by the angry treads of roaring tanks and made fertile by the blood of free men... A reporter from Radar's past shakes up Charles's present.


It is onto the hollowed and sacred grounds that I tread, leaving my foot prints in a land once toiled over by simple farmers; now tilled by the angry treads of roaring tanks and made fertile by the blood of free men. Though I don the accouterments of a solider, my heart is lacking that certain khaki color. Now, don't read me wrong, fair reader. My blood is as red, white, and blue as the next man's, but those are just three colors, and this is a war wrought with shades that would turn any mans flag into an entirely new palette.  
Take the boy I met while on a compound very near the front. His name was Richard Colins, though most call him 'Rich'. He's a good kid, loves apple pie and hates his second grade math teacher, but then again, who didn't? He's twenty years old.  
Today was the first day he killed a man.  
"It's funny. I signed up cause I was angry at my girl. Well, she was my girl. That's why I was angry. 'Cause she left me, you know?" Private Rich blushes slightly when he explains to me what he was feeling. "Well, I just wanted to get up and shoot something, you know? So I joined the Army, it seemed the right idea at the time." I wish I had some sort of statistical information to back up just how many boys impulsively join up like the private here, but unfortunately all I have is the anecdotal evidence of the dozens of soldiers like Private Colins that I've met. He continues, "well, after basic that pretty much worked out all of the anger for me, and I started getting restless until they sent me over here." The Private had never been out of his home state, and now he found himself half way around the world...  
  
"Radar, must you continue reading that drivel aloud?" Charles protested from his side of the swamp. "One tends to loath war stories when one is in the middle of the war himself."  
"Ah gee sir!" Radar replied from his seat in Hawkeye's bed, slightly flustered and upset at being interrupted.  
"Charles, give the kid a break," BJ swatted at Charles from across the room in his own bunk. "It's not everyday a real live celebrity pops up out of your own home town."  
"Celebrities are like that, just pop out of nowhere. They're very jumpy people." Hawkeye joined in, and poked at the article. "Did you know this person Radar? Mr. Harry Kent?"  
"Oh, Mister isn't her, I mean, she's not Harry." Radar grinned and shifted in the bed. Hawkeye looked confused.  
"Well, is she or isn't he?"  
"Both. She is she, but isn't he."  
"Then who's on first?" Hawkeye rolled his eyes. BJ leaned forward and took the clipping from Radars hands.  
"Are you saying Mr. Harry Kent is Ms. Harry Kent?" He scanned the article for some sign of a picture of the journalist. There was none.  
"Uh huh." The corporal grabbed the article back and smoothed it out. "Her real name's Lucy Callahan, but she sends her stories as a man cause the paper seems to think a girl can't write about war." Charles sat with his nose firmly in his reading of choice for that hour, but managed to bark a snide comment through the cover.  
"And just how are you aware of this, Corporal?"  
"Oh, Ottumwa's a small town, Sir. Plus," Radar ducked his head and folded the article shyly. "I wrote her."  
"Without any sort of introduction!" Hawkeye feigned surprise, thrusting a hand dramatically over his chest. "You cad!"  
"Oh no!" Radar countered, missing Hawkeye's sarcasm completely, as he usually did. "I knew her from before. Her dad was the hardware store man, and she was only two grades ahead of me in school!" He stuck out his hand with two fingers extended to illustrate his point more clearly. "She was school newspaper editor and everything. Last I heard of her, 'til now that is, was that she was in some college or something."  
"Looks like she's skipping school." BJ grinned. "I wonder how she got over here." He mused.  
"She didn't say." Radar shrugged. "But you can ask her yourself." He grinned and shifted in his seat like a little boy with a secret, which, in a way, he was.  
"May I assume from your excited squirm that she will be arriving her herself?" Charles haughtily sighed, not waiting for an answer. "To think, someone here who has a collegiate education in the fine arts." He giggled primly. "What a novelty!" Radar wasn't quite sure wither the major was being serious or condescending, but he opted to hope that Winchester was just as excited as he was.  
"It sure will be swell." He pulled a letter out of his pocket and held it up as proof. "When I wrote to her she said she'd be in the area and wanted to see someone from Ottumwa again."  
"Did this patriotic purveyor of the press say when she'd be here?" Hawkeye lifted the letter from Radar's hands. "Or does she just plan to drop in and say 'hello'?"  
"Well, she sent the letter almost a week ago, and I haven't heard from her since." Radar picked at a thread that stuck out rebelliously from the stitch in his pants and tried to hide his burning face. "I don't really think she'll come at all."  
"Oh," BJ sat up and scooted the edge of his bed. "Don't be so sure about that. She sounds like the type to keep her word." He pointed to the article still in Radar's hand. "Would you like to finish reading that?"  
"Sure," Radar shrugged, ironing out the wrinkles he'd made on his knee with the palm of his hand. "She goes on and says..."  
  
You have to see his eyes as he talks about death. They remind me of vase I saw in a museum once; covered with dust, but still shining and beautiful. He doesn't have the eyes of a murderer, nor the heart, or even the right to be called one. God and country tell him he's done nothing wrong. And yet the darkness that jolts across his features in the more quite moments of our conversations tells me he's still fighting with that idea.  
"You see, he was right in my face. We sorta scared each other, and just feel away from each other before we knew the other one was there. I was the one who didn't miss. That's all." At this moment the private smiles at me sadly and leans back in his chair laughing. "I guess I just keep thinking that maybe he'd broken up with his girlfriend too."  
We all have our reasons for being here in this land beyond the police action and the pursuit of peace. We thank you for your sacrifice Private, whether you know you've made one or not.  
God Bless America.  
  
There was a full house in the mess tent that night, and BJ and Hawk had to push to get a seat.  
"It amazing, all these people here to eat- and they get this instead." Hawkeye barbed, sniffing his food and raising a lip at his tray. "Is it just me or does the liver not look like liver tonight."  
"That's because it's steak" BJ grinned and poked at his own chunk of meat, narrowing his eyes at Hawkeye. "And they call you a surgeon."  
"I keep asking them to stop, but they keeping calling anyway." He took a bite of his food and recoiled.  
"The food is nearly a atrocious as that God-forsaken Harry Kent article." Hawk doused his tray with a few angry shakes of salt.  
"I didn't think it was that bad." BJ had opted to pour as much ketchup on his food as possible. It might be more stomach-able if it was all at least one color.  
"One moment the Private's a war hero, the next a murderer, and then a vase in a museum. It's ridiculous!"  
"Harry Kent's not that bad." A voice came from the seat one down and across from them. A khaki clad woman with short dark brunette hair and sparkling hazel eyes that smiled at them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I read the article you were talking about and it really was quite genius. I think his ambiguity is half of his charm."  
At the sight of feminine flesh Hawkeye instant reverted into a gentleman who reeked of flirt.  
"Let me just say that for such a fan of Harry Kent, half of your charm is certainly not in your ambiguity."  
BJ wasn't fooled for an instant.  
"You seem to be a new face." He reached out a congenial hand. "Lucy Callahan I presume." She received his hand with a smile.  
"I see I've come across a friend of Mr. O'Reilly's, now let me see if I can presume just who you are..." She narrowed her eyes at BJ and then looked from him to Hawk and back, quickly sizing up the both of them. "Captains Hunnicut and Pierce?"  
"What gave us away?"  
"Well, O'Reilly's a very avid letter writer and you two each got a page to yourselves if you must know. Plus," she pointed to the cowboy hat perched on Hawkeye's head, "I think you were wearing that exact hat as a lampshade when he wrote the letter."  
"He is a very avid writer," Hawkeye grinned remembering one of many drunken nights, though a bit irritated that Radar had chosen to write about one of those specific instances.  
"I'm sorry to be so forward. I'm really just passing through." She shrugged and looked around. "I have a story waiting for me at the 8063rd, and I was just grabbing a quick bite and saying 'hi' to O'Reilly as soon as I can find him." Hawkeye and BJ rose simultaneously.  
"Allow us to show you the way?" Hawk pushed open the door and she stepped through obligingly, BJ following after.  
  
"Radar, we brought you a surprise." Hawkeye sang as he skipped lightly into the door of the corporal's make-shift office. Radar was filing.  
"Aw, not now guys. I'm not in the mood for one of your surprises." He buried himself deeper into the files.  
"O'Reilly," a female voice sounded with a surprised tone behind his back. "Either I'm hearing things or you're being assertive!"  
"Lucy?" He spun, and slid the drawer close all in one move. "Oh wow! I didn't think I'd actually get to see you." They rushed towards each other and embraced in a warm hug.  
"I'm still hearing things!" She held his at arms length and looked him up and down. "Now your saying crazy things about me going back on my word. I wouldn't miss seeing the best high-school-paper-staff-member a girl could ask for, for the entire world! Gollee, you've changed! The uniform suits you O'Reilly."  
"You think so?" It was clear that Radar looked up to this woman in more ways than literally, and though the dynamic surgical duo were thrust in the corner and cast in the roles of innocent bystanders in this chummy reunion, it was worth it to see the look on Radar's face.  
"Like a glove! Here, I brought you something." She reached into the bag at her side, and pulled out a small, clearly hand-bound book. "Its kept me company almost every night I've been away from home. I can't read a single one enough; I break out into giggles every time."  
  
"You don't mean..." He took the book gingerly and gawked at it as if it might bite him as it lay in his hands.  
"Yup. I do."  
"Who made it?" He turned the package over and over in his hands, running a finger along the stitched and ragged binding.  
"I did." She patted it. "I made one scrap book of all of my favorite articles from the school paper, but I saved everything you ever drew for the paper in here."  
Hawkeye couldn't stand not knowing what was in that book any longer.  
"Everything Radar ever drew?" He stepped up and pointed at the book strangely. "Like what?"  
"Comics." She said briefly, but Radar looked as if she'd shattered something. Hawk felt something knock him back.  
"Comics? Radar, I never knew you were an artist!" He socked him lightly on the shoulder.  
"I'm not!" The corporal responded defensively and shot an angry look at Lucy, who just looked back at him with wide eyes.  
"You're the regular Norman Rockwell of stick figures, and don't you deny it!" She poked him lightly in the chest and laughed while he looked mortified. BJ stepped forward and pointed at the book. "May I?" Radar looked on the stronger side of reluctant to give up the book, but he had little choice in the matter as Lucy took the book from his hands and transferred it to BJ's. "It's mostly esoteric stuff." She offered. "Yeah, and it's only funny if you're from Otummwa" Radar defended himself, puffing out his chest but carefully reading BJ's face as he flipped through the book. There were a few chuckles, but not much beyond that. "I wish I knew who Mrs. Collins was." Hawkeye peered over BJ's shoulder. "And her cow. It's not bad Radar." "Not bad? It's great!" Lucy protested but then turned to Radar. "How have you been O'Reilly?"  
"Gosh, I've been fine. They keep me pretty busy here." He shrugged and threw down the pile of files he'd been working with when they came in. "How about you? How'd your parents take it when you dropped out of college?"  
"They took it pretty well, given I didn't exactly drop out." She smiled and leaned on Radar's desk. "I graduated early. You're looking at the very proud recipient of a very small degree in English."  
"Oh wow! Congratulations! When you wrote me that you were over here I assumed that you had..." He trailed off and grinned madly. "But, wow, a degree!"  
"A very small one, like I said." She held her fingers, pinched shut, to emphasis just how small it was to her. "I'm hoping to get into a university some time soon."  
"Oh really!" Radar looked ecstatic. "You must be the only person from Ottumwa to go to a University in, gosh... who knows how long!" Lucy just shrugged.  
"That's enough about me for now. I want to here all about what's been going on with you. That's what I'm here for and uh..." She cut herself short, biting her lower lip. "And I don't have very long to stick around either. I've got a reservation over at the 8063rd" Radar looked a little hurt to be left so soon by his most recent reminder of 'back home', but Lucy was more hurt by the look than she was willing to admit. A sudden swell of laughter alerted them to the presence of the two captains. They were still reading the small book, oblivious to the conversation. "Which one are you two reading?"  
  
Something about dinner moved Lucy, and it could've been how the dinner still moved on its own. By now she should've been used to the quality of life, and lack thereof, on these army bases; but 'should' and 'is' are two entirely separate things. She was sitting next to Radar in the company of the company's captains Pierce and Hunnicut who had joined in the merry reunion and were as welcomed as they presumed to be.  
A woman soon joined them.  
"Mind if I share a little good news?" She sidled in next to BJ and smiled conspiratorially.  
"Margaret, since no news is good news then you can have nothing to say to me." Pierce grinned through his forkful of potatoes. He seemed to be ignoring her first comment and introduced her to Lucy instead. "Lucy Callahan, I'd like you to meet Major Margaret Houlihan, our local bearer of beneficial tidbits."  
"She happens to be head nurse as well." BJ added trying his best to keep his shoulder between Hawkeye's person and Major Houlihan's.  
Lucy tried her best at cooling the woman's affronted look by extending her hand and mentioning all of the great things that Radar had written about her; only lying half of the time.  
"Really? Do you know the corporal?"  
"Yes," She smiled and swallowed simultaneously. "We both come from Ottumwa. Same high school, and such. Please, don't let me intrude though. You were about to say something? Good news?"  
"Oh yes!" Margret say she had an open ear in Lucy and she zoned in. "You see, I just heard that there's going to be a journalist coming in the next few days, and you'll never guess who!"  
"Harry Kent?" Hawkeye grinned over several giggles.  
"You heard too?" Margaret looked a little surprised and a little upset that she hadn't had the first run through the rumor mill. "Oh! I just can't wait. I bet he's just gorgeous. Tall and dark, a real journalist."  
"Sounds like he's got real merit." Lucy played it sincere. She didn't get reactions like this everywhere she went, but her pseudonym did have a way of haunting her. She herself had imagined up a Harry Kent in her mind, and the name did invoke some rather stirring images.  
"Haven't you ever read anything he's written?" Margaret looked as proud as punch for the man she'd never met, but knew like she knew herself. "Now there's a true patriot." She shot an accusing glance over at Pierce and Hunnicut on the word 'patriot.'  
"Well, I'm not sure that's exactly what he's trying to get across Major." She couldn't stand it anymore. This woman was going to be humiliated when she found out who she was. She'd seemed very nice, and slightly, well, lonely. The last thing she wanted was to hurt anyone; especially a woman she'd just met. "You see, um... I'm..."  
"Completely out of coffee." Radar grabbed her cup and shot from the table. Chicken, Lucy grinned at his completely 'O'Reilly like' behavior and continued. The two captains seemed to be eating all of this up.  
"Ah! I see we have a visitor at our cozy little table." A portly man with a cultured looking sneer approached the table and settled in. Radar came back at that moment as well, with a fresh cup.  
"Here yah go Lucy."  
"Oh ho! Lucy Callahan I presume, or shall I say Harry Kent?" He nodded to her curtly and she returned the gesture, shooting a glance at the Major to see what her reaction was. She caught a brief glimpse of a glance of confusion and quickly explained.  
"Harry Kent is just my pen name, you may call me Lucy or Callahan, I respond to either." She said in the seated man's direction, but with eyes fixed on the Nurse, who was now looking angrily at the two doctors.  
"I can not tell you Miss Callahan what a wonderful bit of luck it is having you here. You see, as you are a person educated in the fine arts, I happen to be an avid consumer of the same."  
"Watch out Lucy, I think the Major's trying to take a bite out of you." Hawkeye ribbed. Charles merely laughed at him shortly and continued.  
"As you can see, the companionship here is rather, shall we say, primative," He shot a look at Captain Pierce. It was a wonder the man wasn't more brown and flaccid with how many wilting looks he got. "Your presence is quite a welcomed respite for the fraying edges of my cultural tapestry."  
"All this from a man I can only assume is Major Winchester," she the added with a prim shortness, "having not heard his name." This man wanted culture. Well, she could handle that. She didn't have a degree in the fine arts for nothing. So, she put on her best Eliza Bennet impersonation and acted just as proud as he was. Nothing to it.  
"Oh, my sincerest apologies." The man groveled. It was disgusting, but humorous. "I am, as you have assumed, Major Charles Emmerson Winchester the Third, at your service."  
Something in that name struck a bell. Lucy wasn't sure what, but it would come to her eventually.  
"Well, Winchester," she felt comfortable using his name informally. She wasn't really a member of the united states army. Her uniform was for practical and sneaky journalist purposes only. "I'm regret to inform you that I will be leaving as soon as this meal is over. I've already stayed too long."  
"Ah, Lucy, you can't! You just got here!" Radar hadn't said anything after the first major had shown up, but he was plenty loud now.  
"I told you'd it'd have to be a quick trip Radar. In and out. I've got a story for me at the eighth oh six three and I've got to move. I like you so much kid I might just come back and stick around for a bit next time, but now I have to motor."  
"Ah! Geeze." Radar looked five feet deeper than down trodden, though Lucy knew the look well enough not to worry. She gave him a strong shake on the shoulder and thanked the rest of the personnel at the table as she excused herself. She'd already shouldered her bag and headed to find a ride out of camp when Captain Pierce came running after her.  
"Hey! You forgot this." He was holding the small red book filled with Radar's comics in his hand as he jogged up to her.  
"No I didn't. Tell Radar I'll get it back from him when I come back myself." She beamed and pushed the book back at the panting captain.  
"Can I at least get you a Jeep? It'll be easier if you aren't out hitching rides after dark. There's a war on after all."  
"So I hear." She allowed him to lead her back towards the camp. "I guess that's what I came here to find out."  
  
"She said it's yours until she comes back and gets it." Hawk threw the book at Radar and collapsed in his bed in the swamp later that night.  
"Oh." Radar's crest had fallen. "I guess that means she really is coming back."  
"Who cares if she does!" Winchester fumed. He was upset that a civil conversation had been very much within his grasp only to be marshaled away by a previous appointment. "It's very clear she was a proud person, though I must say she has little cause. Imagine my stupidity in believing that someone from Ottumwa Iowa," he choked out the name "could have any interesting intercourse to share."  
"She did seem to have a bit of a chip on her shoulder when it came to Charles." BJ took up a letter from home and sat back in his cot. "Has she always been that snooty with the snooty, Radar?"  
"Yeah, she had a real problem with anyone who was stuck up back home. She never explained why to any of us, but we all figure it was on account of her father living in the east and all." He shrugged. "Her parents separated when we were all just kids, and she didn't take it that hard. She spent the summers with him and went to school with the rest of us back in Ottumwa."  
"That's big news for a small town." Hawkeye observed.  
"I suppose." Radar seemed a bit pensive about the whole thing. "I never really knew her that well until High School."  
"So she goes all out for the underdogs? That explains her attachment to you Radar." Hawkeye had meant the comment as a bit of a playful slight but Radar only shrugged at him.  
"Yeah, well, she's really swell. She saw me doodling in class one day- she was there to promote the school newspaper, and she asked me if I'd ever thought about joining and drawing for her, the paper I mean."  
"And thus a star was born!" Hawkeye added dramatically.  
"Or a little red book as the case may be." BJ took the book and started flipping through it again. "Some of these are really funny Radar. Though I'm sorry to say that your drawing isn't really something I'd rope you for."  
"Oh, yeah, well, I guess the truth hurts, huh?" Radar seemed to be holding something back, debating wither the idea in his head was worth mentioning. "I don't really think she liked my drawing, I think it was because of a girl."  
"A girl?" Winchester joined the rest of the tent in looking confused.  
  
"Yeah, Shirley Williams. I'd asked her out earlier that day and got put down real bad." Radar inspected his boots and the floor. "Lucy was good friends with Shirley and saw the whole thing. Later I saw her really tearing into Shirley, though I know they didn't see me."  
"You were a great little 'little guy' even back then Radar." Hawkeye grinned, loving the drama of the story. He was surprised Charles hadn't thrown the clerk out by now, but things had been slow lately and the little bunk sideshow was a great diversion.  
"Yeah, well, that's why I figure she asked me to join the paper, you know? Cause she felt bad and wanted to make it up to me."  
The sound of a jeep honking outside stopped the conversation for a few moments and soon after there was a soft, urgent knock at the door. It was Major Houlihan.  
"A jeep just came in with a wounded person," something about her face was unusually solemn. Hawkeye jumped up and offered to take it, with Radar close behind. "Radar, you're not needed, but I need to speak with BJ and Captain Pierce." Margaret added and they both followed her out of the tent.  
"If there's just one casualty, why do you need us both?" BJ looked a little confused as he followed them to pre-op.  
"I thought that you might want to keep Radar busy for awhile." Margaret stopped just outside the swinging doors and wrung her hands in an uncharacteristic gesture. "The wounded person who just came in is Lucy Callahan."  
A panicked look passed between the two surgeons and BJ simply nodded at Margaret and headed back to the Swamp.  
"Back so soon?" Charles quipped when BJ came through the door, but he ignored the comment and looked direct at Radar, who sensed something was wrong.  
"Radar, it's Lucy." He sat down next to the kid who was starring at him in disbelief.  
"It is?" Shock was etched in every feature. "Oh..."  
"If you'll stay here, I'll go see how she's doing and what happened, okay?" He put an arm around Radar's shoulder and hugged him slightly.  
"Couldn't I go with you? I..."  
"I'll see to it that he stays put." Charles suddenly realized the severity of the situation and knelt by the two of them. "You go check on the patient. If I can do anything, just let me know." He offered and BJ smiled sadly, giving Charles a quick nod and heading out the door.  
"How is she?" He asked after he had scrubbed and gotten ready to offer any assistance.  
"It's a chest wound. Nothing I haven't seen before, but then again they all come in here looking the same." Hawkeye turned to Margaret with a quick order for silk.  
"Except this one happens to have the face of a good friend of a good friend." BJ looked over the wound and whistled. "Shell fragments?"  
"Yup." Except for the rhythmic and familiar pattern of implement requests, it was the last thing any one said until the surgery was finished.  
  
Lucy woke up in a strange room in a strange bed with an aching in her chest.  
"If it weren't for the IV I'd be worried about this." Then it hit her. "Or maybe it's because of the IV that I am worried."  
She couldn't move, or turn. The aching was just too strong. A familiar moan next to her made her smile. It was Radar, and he was probably sleeping right next to her bed. She heard footsteps and a few seconds later a familiar face hung over her.  
"Welcome back. I didn't know you were awake." Captain Pierce checked her pulse.  
"I didn't know it either until a few moments ago." She moaned when she tried to turn onto her side.  
"Just relax. There's no point in moving right now." He coaxed her back onto her back. "Do you remember what happened?"  
"I'd be lying if I said this was the first time I'd woken up in a strange bed with no memory of the night before." She lifted a hand to brush over the bandages that were wrapped around her. "I'm hurt."  
"So that's what that is? I was starting to wonder what you were doing on a bed at a MASH hospital." He marked something on her chart and checked her IV as well. "You broke your leg too, I'm going to check for sensation. Just give me a yell if you feel anything." He reached down and squeezed a few of her toes.  
"Yup," she winced, "that is the definite sting of sensation." She shifted a bit in her bed as Captain Pierce settled into the stool next to her again. "Hey, is that Radar, Captain?"  
"He's been here all night." He marked a few more things down on his chart. "The moment we let him in here he demanded to stay by your side," he shoved the kid dramatically who snorted a little and stirred, "and then he fell right asleep." He hit him again; softly, but he woke.  
"Oh gosh, did I fall asleep?" She could hear him stirring and then suddenly saw his face above her, his hand clutching a deep olive blanket to his chest. "How are you Lucy?"  
"I'm feeling just fine Radar." She lied. "A little groggy, but fine." As she let out a wide yawn she grimaced.  
"I wouldn't recommend doing much of that." Hawkeye put a gentle hand on her arm until the pain subsided in her face and he looked over at Radar. "Comon', now that you know that she's okay, lets get you some food and some sleep."  
"Lucy," Radar didn't want to leave her side, that was clear. His friendly devotion made her smile. "Are you sure there's nothing I can get for you? Anything at all, you just name it."  
"A book would be nice." She thought for a moment. "If you can find one. Other than that you just follow the doctor's orders and I'll be fine."  
"You heard the lady Radar," Hawkeye grabbed the clerks' shoulders firmly and led him out of the ward. "Nothing to see here, move along, move along."  
  
Radar stood at the door of the swamp for a moment and then turned quickly on his heel and made two quick steps, turned again, paused and repeated the action. Just as he was about to turn again, Charles walked towards the tent and nearly ran into the nervous boy. Radar jumped with a loud yell.  
"Radar, I have no idea what you're doing, nor do I care. I simply request that you do it out of my sight." Charles wove his way around Radar who simply popped his mouth opened nad closely while quickly pursuing the Major.  
"I really need a favor Major, Sir." He saw Charles deflate at the word 'favor' and grimaced. "It's not for me, it's for Lucy, see, well, I asked her if there was anything she wanted and I feel so helpless and if you could just loan me a book, actually loan her a book, I'll I've got is comics and I don't really think she'd like those as much as some of the stuff you have here."  
"Well my stuff is not just stuff Radar." Charles was affronted and annoyed, a terrible combination in the proud. "Literature is the building block of humanity, the foundation where all knowledge is transcribed! Certainly, I cannot expect one such as yourself to understand." He scoffed, "only the few true pedants such as your friend can truly appreciate what little literature I do have in my current possession."  
"Hey," Radar looked miffed "watch what you say about Lucy."  
"My dear Radar, calling her a pedant is one of the highest compliments I assure you."  
"So you'll let her loan a book."  
"I shall visit her shortly and let her choose from my finest."  
"Gee, that's swell of you Major. Thanks!"  
With that the corporal was off at a chipper gait and as Charles watched after him he could not help but feel a little warm for the act of charity he had just agreed to perform.  
  
Lucy had never realized what a active bore the process of healing could be. There was a privacy screen up next to her cot, secluding her from the other wounded men in the area. So, there was no one to talk to too get a good story, or a first hand account of the life of a wounded soldier.  
Ever the journalist, she thought to herself. A hole in my chest and a broken leg, and I'm still dying to get a story.  
She winced at the almost literal truth of her last thought. Death could've been a very real outcome in the days events. It would do her good not to forget that.  
A throat cleared from the foot of her bed.  
"Winchester, I presume." She couldn't look up too far, the strain was too painful, but she recognized the presence almost immediately.  
"Ah ha, yes, I um, well," He suddenly appeared over her and was smiling. Lucy noticed that, somehow, smiling didn't really suit him. Maybe it was a sadness in his face that did it- made the smile seem so ridiculous. "Radar informed me that you requested diversion in the form of a book, and seeing as I have plenty, I took the liberty of bringing you several to choose from."  
"Oh, wow." She was impressed. "I sent Radar after a book thinking no one would actually have one." She'd wanted to give the corporal something to do to actively help her without having him hovering over her. If she knew Radar, she knew his tunnel vision when it came to aiding friends. "I'm afraid I'm in no state to read. I can hardly sit up. So thank you, but I'm afraid your kindness is misplaced, Major."  
"Well, then I shall have to read to you." Before she could protest he found a stool and settled down next to her, wielding several tomes.  
"Honestly, thank you." She hated the idea of being forced to listen to this proud man for what may turn out to be hours, "but I don't want to be any trouble."  
"No trouble at all," He chortled, "indeed, it is a pleasure to share these with someone who can truly appreciate them. Now, where shall we begin? Dickens? Kant? Whitman? Browning?"  
"All of those?" She was shocked. She hadn't expected such an array of books, the man had somehow managed to tote a veritable library into the center of a war zone. It was an action that could have been commended and labeled eccentric all in one stroke.  
"It is meager I suppose." He sighed and flipped through a few pages of one book absently, "if there's nothing you like I have more in the trunk in my quarters."  
"No, Whitman will be fine, thank you." She stopped him from rising with a graceful touch of her hand on his arm. The comfortable gesture seemed to catch him off guard and he stared at her hand for a moment until she took it away. Even then his gaze lingered on her fingers until her realized her was staring, and that Lucy had become uncomfortable.  
"I apologize. I... don't know what came over me." He sat back on his stool and quickly flipped through the pages of Whitman trying to find a particular passage, or simply trying to avoid looking at Lucy. He fumbled for a few moments until he closed the book quickly and looked up at nothing in particular. "You really do have very wonderful hands. Pianist's hands I believe is what they call them." He talked quickly, and blushed so hard that even the top of his shining pate was a cherry shade. "I'm very sorry for my reation just now, and I really must apologize, you see out here a touch such as yours is truly a rarity. Its sudden compassion caught me off guard." He looked over to see that the woman in the bed was smiling, her eyes closed.  
"It is in war- such a great and inhuman act-," Lucy whispered when he had stopped raving, "that such quiet acts of human dignity are heard the loudest." Charles sighed with some relief.  
"Is that a quote?"  
"No. An observation." She opened her eyes and turned her head as best she could to him. "There's no need to be embarrassed. A little bit after I had first come over here I talked to a soldier, well into the night, about many things; mostly about him, his life, who he was and what he was doing here. When I finally ended our conversation I thanked him and embraced him. It seemed the right thing to do, I felt we had grown close in the hours we had spent together." She sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "Suddenly the boy began to sob. Right there, in my arms, he fell apart. There's something about human contact, and I don't think it's just because I'm a woman, that makes people suddenly remember the humanity they've been trying to forget all along."  
"It's not that we try to forget." Charles suddenly was very calm and very quite. "Some of us try to hold onto it as best as we can," he motioned a limp arm at the books around him. "It's a matter of survival. The human mind isn't meant to understand the things that go on here sometimes, it's better that it can't."  
They sat in silence for awhile, and neither moved until she slowly took his hand into hers and squeezed it softly. There was something very comfortable about the entire situation and Lucy closed her eyes again, only this time, to drift off to sleep. 


End file.
